


Time Out

by Somerandomwoman



Category: Breaking Bad, Breaking Bad & Related Fandoms
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Golf, M/M, Male Friendship, Shopping, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-07-28 09:48:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7635592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somerandomwoman/pseuds/Somerandomwoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesse has no one to hang out with.  Saul suggests golf.  Gratuitous fluff ensues. Set around episode 4x02</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jesse stayed slumped in the couch even after Walt had left, staring vaguely at the scales on the table in front of him.

After Saul realised Jesse wasn’t moving he looked up at him.  
“What’s up, kid?”  
Jesse replied with a noncommital grunt. “Aw, nothing.”  
“It must be something, kid. You pay me to advise you, so let me advise! What’s on your mind?”  
Jesse sighed heavily, hoping Saul would pick up on the fact that he didn’t have the energy for more interrogations after dealing with Mr White’s bullshit all day. He flicked his eyes over to Saul.  
Nope, it hadn’t worked. Saul still had him fixed with open, inquiring eyes.  
Jesse sighed again and looked at the ceiling. “I . . . I just want to hang out,” he says, hesitatingly, before groaning as he realises how stupid that sounds when said out loud. He covers his face with his hands and sinks backward, hoping maybe the couch happens to be carnivorous and will swallow him, saving him from Saul’s mocking.

Jesse braces himself for a zinger as Saul gets up from his desk and moves over to the chair beside him. He lets his hands fall and fixes Saul with a jaded look, ready to be a punchline.  
But instead Saul leans forward slightly.  
“It’s okay, Jesse. I get it. Being mixed up in the drug trade can’t be doing wonders for your social life. And I bet being around Walt all day isn’t exactly a barrel of laughs.”  
Jesse flinches back slightly, surprised. “Huh, no,” is all he manages to get out. Jesse didn’t expect Saul would understand - or even care. 

Saul’s not laughing at him - yet - so Jesse goes on. “Well, yeah. And since I got clean I kinda split off from my other friends, ‘cos I know if I hang with them too much I’ll just end up using again.”  
“Is that Badger and Skinny Pete?”  
“Yeah, how did you know?” Jesse says, amazed that Saul would remember something like that.  
“You’ve mentioned them before, kid. What, do you think I just sit here charging you for the privilege of breathing the air in this office? You get my full attention.”  
Jesse’s not sure what to make of that. Badger told him Saul couldn’t even remember which crime he was accused of. Jesse and Skinny Pete gave him shit for weeks after that - Badger, Albuquerque’s Number One public masturbator.

But it appears right now Saul is giving Jesse his full attention because his brow is knitted in thought, considering Jesse’s situation.  
“That must be tough, kid, but it’s good that you can see that being with your friends might not be good for you. And I guess co-workers are out?” Saul adds with a chuckle.  
“Yeah, Mr White couldn’t have fun in a whorehouse with free beer,” Jesse says, eyes rolling with ground in frustration at the fustiness of his partner.  
“What about your NA meetings? There must be people there in a similar situation, wanting to make a break with their old friends?”  
“Yeah, I guess, but it’s hard to relax around them, ya know? Like, there’s so much I couldn’t tell them, it’s like, ‘What did you do at work today?’ ‘Oh, just went to my job in a meth lab’, it’s not happening, yo.”  
Saul puffs out a long breath and looks at the floor, stumped. “Yeah, I guess the whole being a meth cook thing really puts a dampener on it.”  
“Yeah, I just need someone I can talk to that I know isn’t going to rat me out, and isn’t a complete dick. Jesus, how can it be that hard?” Jesse slumps back in to the couch in frustration.  
Saul briefly makes eye contact with Jesse, then looks away, biting the inside of his cheek like he’s not sure whether to say something.  
“You got an idea?” Jesse asks. “Just let it out, man, can’t make things any worse.”  
Saul gives a soft chuckle. “Well, I don’t know about that, kid, but . . .”  
Is this Saul being shy? Jesse never thought he’d see that from Saul of all people, and gives him a small smile at the thought. Obviously that’s enough for Saul to let out whatever thought was in there, because he murmurs his idea.  
“What do you think about coming for a round of golf with me?”

“Oh come on!” Saul exclaims, as Jesse tries to control his laughter. “See, this is why I didn’t want to say anything!”  
Jesse breathes deeply, stifling the laughs as Saul looks at him with wounded offence.  
“Naw, you’re good, you’re good, it’s just . . . golf? I’m not a hundred years old, yo.”  
Saul frowns at him. “Hey, do I look a hundred?”  
“Well, no. .”  
“Thank you! Now, as I was trying to say, golf is probably good for someone like you who spends all day stuck in a basement. You get to walk around in the fresh air, there aren’t huge crowds of people, and if you’re lucky you can hit a kid with a stray ball. Plus, I can get you in to my club, where people know the value of discretion, and if you go with me, everything we talk about is covered by attorney-client privilege. So, whaddaya say?”

Jesse has to think about it. He’s never played golf (unless you count putt-putt, and he’s guessing Saul doesn’t), and he’s never really spent enough time with Saul to decide if he meets the ‘not a complete dick’ part of his criteria. But Saul did at least take the time to listen to him, and he actually seemed to care about Jesse’s problem - in fact, he's the only other person that seems to give a shit about Jesse right now.

Saul’s looking at him with a small grin and a hopeful eyebrow, and Jesse finds himself unable to say no.

“When’s tee off?”


	2. Chapter 2

“Oh!  Uh, well. . .” Saul didn’t plan on asking Jesse to play golf with him, and he certainly didn’t expect Jesse to accept, so it takes him a second to compose himself.  All he really thought about was the weariness he could see in Jesse’s eyes, the exhaustion of his soul.  Saul’s instinct was to hold Jesse close to him; to reassure him; to let him know that just for a moment he was safe.    
  
But Saul knew that was completely out of the question.    
  
Why had he invited him to golf?  It just . . . happened.    
  
_Nice work, brain!  Didn’t think that one through, did you?  Since when did Pinkman and golf ever inhabit the same universe?!_  
  
It only happened because Saul wanted to give the kid a chance to get out, and hopefully distract him from some of the shit he was going through.  Maybe, just for a few hours, Saul could help Jesse be happy.  No way was it just Saul wanting to engineer a situation where he got to spend more time with Jesse.  
  
_Ah, be honest Saul.  That had a bit to do with it. Yeah . . . maybe ten percent of it.  Max._  
  
Unbelievably, Jesse’s still giving Saul a small smile.  He hasn’t changed his mind.  
  
_Carpe diem, Goodman!  Don’t screw this up!_  
  
“Well, it’s not quite that easy, kid.  I have to see which times are free at the club first.  Should I see if they have something tomorrow afternoon?  Would that suit you?”  
  
“Yeah, I guess.  But don’t be surprised if Mr White pulls some last minute bullshit like making me scrub out all the tanks or something.”  
  
Saul gives Jesse a knowing smile.  Sometimes he’s amazed at the patience Jesse must have to work with Walt.  
  
“I get it, kid.  You get back to me if it’s a no-go.  In the mean time, we’ll need to get you some new clothes.”  Saul gestures to Jesse’s rather casual attire.  
  
“What’s wrong with my clothes, yo?!”  Jesse pulls his hoody around him possessively.  
  
Saul gives a small chuckle.  “As ‘dope’ as you might think your ‘threads’ are, I don’t think the club will agree.  There’s a dress code.”  
  
Jesse rolls his eyes at Saul’s attempt to use slang.  “Dude, the seventies called, they want their words back.”  
  
“Hey, whatever, kid, you’ll still need to fix it up if you want to get in.  Besides, it’s not like you don’t have a bit of spare cash to burn.”  Saul fixes Jesse with a firm eye, then mumbles, “And there’s nothing wrong with the seventies. . . ”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Nothing!”  
  
Jesse sighs in resignation.  “Fine, man.  But I ain’t wearing no lame-ass golf pants!”  
  
Saul grins.  “Don’t worry.  I know some good places,” Saul says, as he starts pulling up addresses.  “We’ll find something that isn’t ‘hella lame’.”    
  
“Dude, can you not?”  
  
_Great going, Goodman.  Make yourself sound like a complete dick._  
  
But when Saul looks up from his laptop Jesse’s looking back at him with a grin.  
  
Saul loses himself in that smile for a moment. He wonders what it would feel like to curve his hand around the back of Jesse's neck, push his fingers through the short hair there, pull Jesse close to him . . .

_No, Saul.  Don't even think about it.  It's not gonna happen._

 

* * *

  

  
Jesse agrees to meet Saul that afternoon at a large golf supply warehouse.  He’s actually surprised at just how much crap is involved with this game.  As they go in he’s surrounded by clubs, trundlers, carts, tees, balls - and they aren’t even in to the clothing section yet.  
  
Saul’s pushing quickly through it all, greeting the staff as he goes past.  Obviously he’s a regular.  Jesse starts wondering how much further there is to go.  Club covers, shoes, gloves - jesus, how much junk do you need?  
  
Saul suddenly stops, eye caught by a pair of blue checked houndstooth pants.  
  
“Aw hell no!” Jesse exclaims.  
  
“Relax, kid.  I’m always on the eye out for something myself.  We’ll find you something a bit more understated.”  
  
Jesse calms down when Saul calls him over to a rack of what actually look like pretty normal pants.  Not the sort of thing he’d choose himself, but he doesn’t think he’ll look completely lame.    
  
Saul flicks through the hangers and gives his waist a critical look.    
  
Jesse pulls his belt up self-consciously.  “What, man?”  
  
“What’s your waist size?”  
  
“Like, 40?”  
  
“No, your actual waist, not the size of those enormous pants you love to hide yourself in.”  
  
“I dunno?  Like, 36?”  
  
Saul raises an eyebrow, flicks to the end of the rack, and pulls out a pair.  Jesse looks sceptically at the pair of navy blue 30" pants Saul passes to him.  
  
“Trust me, kid.  But we’ll find you a shirt so you can try them on together.”  
  
Saul must really know this place because where ever he’s taking Jesse he’s going straight there, past racks of what look to Jesse like not too bad options.  
  
“What about that?” Jesse asks.  
  
“Nah, those ones chafe.  And I’d know.”  
  
Jesse does a simultaneous wince and gross out at the implications of that as they keep walking.  Eventually Saul stops by some polo shirts and eyes Jesse up again before handing him a light blue shirt.  
  
“Yo, there ain’t no way this is gonna fit!”  
  
“Wanna bet?  Try it on, kid.”  
  
Jesse reluctantly moves off to the changing rooms.  He gives himself a look over in the mirror.  Actually, this stuff does fit, and he doesn’t seem to look like a dork.  Not that it’s going to matter because there’s no way he’s going to meet anyone he knows.  Jesse’s actually kinda surprised that Saul could pick out a non-heinous looking outfit.  Not that he’s going to tell him that.  
  
Jesse moves back out again.  
  
“Hey!  Lookin’ sharp!” Saul gives him double finger guns.  “Better not be any ladies on the field because they’d be clawing all over each other to get a sight of that!”  
  
Jesse blushes slightly.  He knows Saul’s laying it on thick, but it’s still nice to hear a compliment.  Jeez, when was the last time Mr White said something nice to him . . .  
  
“Now let’s get you some shoes, kid.”  
  
“I need shoes, too?”  
  
“Yeah, spikes are a must have.  You can’t sue this place for a slip and fall if you aren’t wearing them.  And I’d know.”  Saul smirks to himself, and Jesse can’t work out exactly why Saul finds that particular point so funny.  
  
Saul leads Jesse past even more racks and he wonders if anyone has ever got lost in here.  Like, do they have alarms or something in case you need to be rescued?  Jesse’s feeling a bit hungry too - has anyone ever starved to death in here?  Or what if some hundred year old golf dude, like, fell over or something and nobody saw him because he was hidden under a thousand pairs of pants?  
  
“There ya go - will plain black do?”  
  
Jesse’s actually pretty happy with the pair Saul’s found.  He was expecting some clown shoes or something.  But these look pretty normal.  
  
After trying them on Saul starts leading him back to the check out.  Finally Jesse can get out of here.  
  
“Nuh uh uh,” Jesse pulls Saul away from some orange shirts.  “Some of us have other things to do today.”  
  
Saul gives him an unimpressed look.  “One day you’ll learn to have fun.”  
  
“Today is not that day, yo!  Now make for the checkout!  Let’s go!” Jesse says, as he pushes Saul forward.  
  
Eventually they make it back to the checkout.  Saul gets a buzz on his phone as Jesse’s paying.  
  
“Two o’clock tomorrow good for you?”


	3. Chapter 3

  
“So, I’ll pick you up about 1 p.m.?” Saul asks as Jesse loads his shopping into his car.  
  
“Huh?  Um, okay, I guess?  Why do you need to pick me up?  Why can’t I just meet you there?”  Jesse’s looking at Saul curiously, but there’s no heat in his tone.  
  
“Well you know how there’s a dress code?  The membership fees at this place are through the roof, not because it costs that much to run the club, but so the members know they don’t have to mix it with the plebs.  Hate to say it, kid, but you car probably fits in the ‘pleb’ category.”  
  
“So. . . what, they think ‘cos of my car I’m going fuck with their chi or something?”  
  
“Yeah, harsh, right?  Some people can’t appreciate the virtues of a ride with ‘character’.”  A small smile of nostalgia comes to Saul’s face.    
  
He glances away for a moment and murmurs,  “And they don’t understand that just because you’re life’s tough, doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.”  
  
Saul looks back with resolute but affirming cobalt blue eyes, an expression that takes Jesse a moment to decipher because he hasn’t seen it from anyone in his life for so long.  He slowly realises it’s earnestness.  Saul meant what he said.  As if to emphasise the point, Saul claps his hand on Jesse’s bicep, giving it a small squeeze.  The younger man feels a sudden burst of warmth under Saul’s palm and is momentarily stunned.  Saul's hand falls away and he gives Jesse a soft smile.  Jesse flicks his eyes to the ground, blushing, before getting his head back to what Saul was talking to him about.  What was it again?  Golf.  Yeah, that was it.  Golf.  
  
“Jeez, these golf people sound like complete douchebags.”  Jesse gives a slightly confused frown.  “Why do you go there?”    
  
Saul smirks at the implication of Jesse’s phrasing.  “Thanks, kid.  It’s an occupational hazard.  If I didn’t work for douchebags I wouldn’t make much money.  And you’ll see when we get there that it’s actually a pretty agreeable place to be - makes a nice change from the desert, anyway.”  
  
Jesse doesn’t look entirely convinced.  
  
“Don’t worry, kid.  If we get there and you don’t like it, you just tell me and we can do something else.  But what fun is life if we don’t try something that scares us every now and then?”    
  
Saul gives him a smirk that breaks in to a grin.  Jesse gives a knowing laugh, exactly the reaction Saul was hoping for.  
  
“So, I’ll pick you up about 1 p.m.?”

* * *

  
Saul pulls up outside Jesse’s place and does his best not to spring up to the footpath.  
  
_Calm it down, Goodman.  You’re just two buddies playing golf.  Nothing more._    
  
Jesse opens the door, a wide smile on his face.  He can’t help but let out a laugh as he sees Saul walk up.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Aw, man, I knew you wouldn’t let me down!”  
  
Saul looks around, confused.  “I try not to, kid,” he says, hands out apologetically.  Jesse shuts the door behind him and starts walking down the path towards the still perplexed Saul.  
  
“No, man!  It’s . . .” Jesse looks at Saul’s outfit - one of those wool vests with green and white diamonds over a purple shirt, and grey checked trousers - and tries to sum up how Saul’s mirthful style lifts his spirit.  Dress code or not, Saul’s gonna Saul.    
  
Unfortunately the only word that floats into Jesse’s head to describe how he feels at that moment is ‘gay’  
  
_But that’s okay!  Gay just means happy!  Happy is how you feel!_  
_No, idiot!  He’s not gonna think that!  You want to weird him out ten seconds in to this?!_  
_He’s a lawyer!  Lawyers are smart!  He’ll know which one you mean!_  
  
so he decides it would be better not to say anything, and just waves Saul off with a smile as they walk to the Cadillac.  
  
As they drive off the stereo resumes playing.  On hearing the music Jesse’s eyebrow climbs up his forehead and he slowly turns to Saul.  
  
“You are such a dork.”  
  
“What?  No, this is good.  Real music.”  
  
“Dude, it’s fucking _o-p-e-r-a_ ,”  Jesse says, drawing out the last word.  He tilts his head and fixes Saul with a hard look.  
  
“It’s _Mozart_ and it’s one of the most popular operas of all time.  Hey, are they going to be listening to your music in two hundred years?  Probably not.  This has staying power.”  
  
“Whatever, man, it doesn’t count if, like, three people are still listening to it.”  
  
Saul lilts contrarily.  “Maybe it has sentimental value for those people.”  
  
“What, did you like, make out in an opera once or something?”  Jesse says with a snort.  
  
“Not that one.” Saul smirks suggestively at Jesse.  “It was actually from my first big case.  There was this retirement home that I was visiting to help some clients with their wills.  Anyway, it turns out the company running the place was ripping off its residents, overcharging them, putting it all on receipts in print so small they couldn’t even see it.  I mean who does that?  Just stealing straight from the pensions of these defenceless old people!  I began looking into it, and when they saw that I was on to their scam, they started spoliating-"  
  
“What?”  
  
“Oh, sorry kid, I mean destroying evidence.  There’s nothing like shredding everything to make you look innocent, right?”  Saul swings a grin at Jesse before continuing.  
  
“So I served them with a demand letter and told them it was a felony if they kept at it!”  
  
“And then what?”    
  
Saul glances over to see Jesse’s turned right towards him, tucked up, eagerly awaiting the next part of the story.  
  
“They threw me out on my ass,” he laughs.  “I still had a lot to learn.”  
  
“So . . what?  You didn’t give up, did you?”  
  
“No way, kid!”  Saul shares a self-assured smirk with Jesse.  It’s not a look that he sees much from the lawyer - they look that says he knows just how capable he is.  “I went back that night to find what they’d shredded.  Anyway while I was in the dumpster-"  
  
“Wait, what?  You went through their trash?”  Jesse’s eyes are wide with surprise before he makes a disgusted expression.  “No way.  That’s gross, dude.”  
  
“Do you think they just leave it all out with a bow on it and a big sign saying ‘Here is all the evidence, luv from the Evil Mega Conglomerate XOXO’?  No, I had to get my hands dirty.  And my feet. . . and my legs. . . and the rest of my body, as it turned out.”  
  
Jesse looks at him in admiration for a moment.  “You jumped in a dumpster full of trash just to help out some old people?”

“Well. . .yeah?" Saul pauses, confused.  "What else could I do?  Let them get ripped off?  It wouldn’t have been right.”  
  
Jesse shakes his head, smiling to himself.  
  
“So you got the evidence. . but I still don’t get how opera comes in to it.”  
  
“Oh, well,” Saul chuckles, “while I was up to my neck in garbage one of their douchebag lawyers rang me up.  Obviously I wasn’t going to tell him I was currently going through his client’s used coffee grounds and banana peels and highly incriminating evidence, so I told him I was at the opera.”  
  
Jesse’s open-mouthed in awe.  “Wait, was it -"  
  
Saul just gives him a giant grin and points to the stereo.  
  
“Sure was, kid.”  
  
Jesse laughs and sits back in his seat.  Actually, this music isn’t so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos everyone! I always like to know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos everyone! It's a real motivator

They pull up at the club and yeah, Jesse’s glad he didn’t bring his car.  The carpark is filled with polished beauties that look like they’ve driven straight off the lot, making Jesse think he’d either get towed or sued if he parked here.  
  
Saul pops open the trunk and pulls his clubs out, wrestling open a trundler to put them on.  Jesse studies the contraption and is unimpressed.    
  
“What’s with this, yo?  I thought half the point of golf was getting to hoon around in one of those lil’ carts.”  
  
“It’s good exercise, kid.  How do you think I maintain my svelte figure?”  Saul pulls at his belt and fixes Jesse with an eyebrow raised in mock seriousness.  
  
This makes Jesse pause for a moment while he examines Saul.  Actually, he’s not in bad shape, for his age - how old is he, even?  Jesse’s never honestly thought about him working out - except that time where he came to visit him in hospital, but that tracksuit he was wearing didn’t really seem like it was made for exercising in.  Not unless ‘sleazing’ is a form of exercise.  
  
“Whatever, man.  How far are we gonna walk, anyway?”  
  
“About four miles,” and before Jesse can protest Saul’s heading towards the club.  “Now c’mon, let’s get you signed in.”  
  
The sight of the course is enough to make Jesse stop dead to take it in.  The clubhouse doors open on to swathes of lush grass and streams, mature trees and elegantly clipped bushes.  The contrast with the rocky hills behind is almost jarring.  
  
“Wow. .” he gasps.  “Are we even still in the ABQ?”  
  
“Yeah, and if you wanted to spend the entirety of your considerable income on water alone, you too could pretend you’re living in New Hampshire.”  
  
Jesse’s still absorbing the oasis as they walk to the first tee.  Every day at work he’s been surrounded by concrete and steel. Even when he gets out, it’s just in to grimy neighbourhoods full of run-down buildings and chain-link fences and trash.  He can’t remember the last time he was in a place this green - he wants to run his hands through the abundant leaves; roll on the grass and smell the earthy scent.  Then he realises the two of them seem to be alone on the course.  
  
“Where is everyone?  The parking lot was full of cars and this place is dead, yo.”  
  
“That’s because of the tee times.  The players are all spaced around the course so people don’t get hit by balls flying in from behind them.  The nearest people will be about fifteen minutes away on each side so we might not even see anyone during the whole round.”  
  
Jesse considers this as they walk up to the start of the course.  
  
“First hole.  Three hundred and sixty-seven yards,” Saul announces.  “Ya know, I should probably have asked this earlier, but have you ever played golf, kid?”  
  
“Uh. .” Jesse considers his answer.  He’s seen people play golf on TV.  How hard can it be?  The hesitation is enough for Saul to read Jesse’s inexperience.  
  
“You know what?  It doesn’t matter.  We’re just here to have fun.  But I’ll go first so you can get your eye in.”  
  
Saul strides up to the tee, runs through a couple of practice swings, then lets the ball go flying in a smooth arc.  It drops from the air to land neatly in the centre of the fairway, about a hundred yards from the hole.  He turns and offers the driver to Jesse.  
  
“Here ya go, kid - looks like the wind’s pretty light today, so that’s one less thing to worry about.”  
  
Jesse takes the club, trying not to let his uncertainty show as he does his best to repeat the strange butt-wiggling and toe-turning rituals he just saw Saul go through.  He draws the club back and smashes it into the ball.  
  
“That’s a mean slice you’ve got there.”  
  
Jesse sighs in annoyance.  “No shit, Captain Obvious.”  He looks at his ball stuck in the trees a hundred yards away and begins to regret his decision.  
  
It takes him three more shots just to get his ball anywhere near Saul’s.  Saul chips his ball on to the green and taps it in for a one-under par.  
  
Jesse, however, is showering himself in sand, swearing at the ball, the club, and the sand trap.  
  
Five strokes later he meets Saul on the green, disgruntlement clear on his face.  
  
“This. Game. Is. Bullshit.”  
  
_Way to go, Goodman!  Try to take the kid out to cheer him up and you do the exact opposite!_  
  
Saul tries to give Jesse a conciliatory smile.  “Wave it off.  Start again fresh on the next hole.”  
  
 Unfortunately the second hole is no better.  It doesn’t seem to matter what Jesse does with the club, the ball just does what it wants - which does not include going towards the green.  Jesse steams with irritation as he chases his ball across the fairway.  
  
“How is this so easy for you?” he asks Saul in frustration once he’s finally sunk his ball.  
  
“It’s like I told you, kid - this is part of my job.  I’ve lost count of the number of cases I’ve settled with a round of golf.”  
  
“What, you bet on cases?”  
  
“No - well, only once.  No, sometimes it’s easier to talk turkey when you’ve got four hours with the DA or the prosecuting attorney or whoever it might be, and you’re not stuck in an office.  But if you don’t play well, chances are they won’t listen to your arguments as much.  So you have to get good.”  
  
Jesse looks at the ground.  “Yeah, I guess,” he mumbles.  It’s interesting, but little comfort as he lines up on the next tee.  
  
_Please, please, please, just go straight ahead.  Stop making me look like a fool.  Please._  
  
The club collides with the ball.  It does not go straight ahead.  He lets out a whine of defeat.  
  
“Aw, for once!  All I want is for things to go right _one_ time.”    
  
After four more shots, Saul watches Jesse’s slumped form trudge up to the green.  
  
“Nearly there, kid.”  Jesse looks up at Saul and fixes him with a glare so heated it makes him recoil.    
  
Three more hits, and the ball remains steadfastly un-sunk.  
  
“Fuck this!” Jesse yells, and throws the putter to the side.  “Why does it have to be so difficult?!”  
  
Saul looks at Jesse and sees his shoulders buckle, tears forming in his eyes.  
  
“Oh, kid . .” he begins, as he realises Jesse’s not talking about the golf.  Instinctively he folds Jesse into his arms as tears begin to flow.  Saul can feel the younger man’s fragility as he pulls Jesse closer to him, convulsing with sobs.  
  
“There, there. . . it’s okay.  You’re safe. .” Saul murmurs as he rubs Jesse’s back in slow circles, hoping it’s giving the other man some comfort.  “We’ll work this out. . .”  
  
Eventually the sobs slow.  Jesse pushes away slightly and lifts his head from Saul’s shoulder to look at him with tear-stained eyes.  
  
“Why do you care so much?” he asks, angry and confused.  “Why?  Why me?  What do you care?”  
  
Saul hesitates, biting at the inside of his cheek as he tries to think of a way to explain things that won’t add to Jesse’s list of problems.  
  
“Because I know you’re a good person.  You don’t deserve what’s happening to you.  And that makes me want to find a way to help.”  
  
“But. . .” Jesse looks at Saul, puzzled. “I’m just a junkie, a meth cook, and a drug dealer?”  
  
“Are you clean now?”  Saul asks softly.  
  
“Well, yeah.”  
  
“So you aren’t a junkie.  And you aren't dealing any more.  And even if that was the case, just because you are those things now, doesn’t mean it’s all you’ll ever be.”  
  
There’s a small noise of acknowledgment from Jesse, so Saul continues.  
  
“You think I hatched fully-formed as a lawyer?  No, I screwed up, majorly.  More than once.  A lot more than once, actually.”  He gives a soft chuckle. 

“Yeah, life gets hard sometimes, sometimes we don’t make the right decisions.  Some shit just happens.  But I know if I can get through it, you definitely can.”  Saul looks down at Jesse with honesty and warmth.  
  
“You’re strong.  And you never give up.  You can do this.”  
  
Jesse pulls his arms tight, burying his head in Saul’s shoulder and holding him close in a silent gesture of appreciation.  
  
They eventually break apart, and Saul pulls a towel out of the golf bag so Jesse can compose himself.  
  
“Now, this here, this doesn’t matter,” Saul says, pointing around to indicate the golf course.  “If you don’t want to play, that’s fine.  You can just come for a walk, or we could even leave it completely.  It’s no big deal.  Do you want to stop?”  
  
It takes Jesse a second to realise Saul’s offering him a genuine choice.  That’s not something he’s had lately.  But he knows straight away what he wants to do.  
  
“No.  I’m going to get this right,” he replies, fixing Saul with a look of determination.  
  
Saul gives him a grin and claps him on the shoulder.  
  
“Attaboy!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not going where I expected! I wondered what could have happened if Jesse had been around someone when he had his breakdown, and went from there.


	5. Chapter 5

“The one thing you have to remember,” Saul says, as they walk to the next tee, “is patience.  It takes time to get good at this.  Jeez, it took me longer to get good at golf than it took me to become a lawyer, and I failed the bar exam twice!”  
  
“Really?”  Jesse asks, surprised.  He can’t imagine a Saul that didn’t know the law inside and out.  The lawyer must have worked his ass off to go from failing to the where he is now.  
  
“Shocking, huh?” Saul says with a grin.  “So, if things don’t go according to plan, don’t sweat it.  If it takes you ten strokes to make it to the hole?  Who cares?  I don’t have anywhere else I want to be.”  
  
He smiles at Jesse.  “But if it starts getting dark, I gotta be honest, I’m probably going to call it off and head to the 19th hole.”  
  
Jesse sets himself up on the tee and tries to relax.  
  
_Don’t sweat it._  
_Okay.  Let’s do this._  
  
He swings at the ball, and it lifts off in an arc, straight into the trees.  
  
“I feel sorry for your ball.”  
  
Jesse starts turning to Saul, about to fix him with a glare, when he realises it’s a compliment.  
  
“There’s some serious power you’ve got there, kid.  All we need to do is work on your stance a bit and you’ll be getting 250 yards in your drive, easy.”  
  
They walk up to retrieve Jesse’s ball and Saul drops it the regulation arm’s distance from the tree it landed behind.  He starts fishing around in one of the pockets of the golf bag to pull out two tees tied together with a long piece of string.  
  
“There’s a few things we’ll work on, but let’s start with getting rid of your slice.”  
  
Jesse looks on curiously as Saul pulls the string tight on a line pointing to the hole.  
  
“What’s this?”  
  
“It’s to help you get lined up.  If your body’s not aligned to the hole you’ll swing off to the side. . . as you probably know.”  
  
Saul directs him to set up on the line and he takes another swing.  It’s not perfect, but the ball’s gone in the general direction of where Jesse wanted it to go, for once, taking him by surprise.  
  
He gapes and points to the ball, then points to Saul, then points back at the ball. 

“It. . .you. . Yeah, take that, bitch!” he says, fist punching the air.  
  
The elation wears off slightly when Jesse gets stuck in a sand trap again.  A red-faced ans swearing figure joins Saul on the green three strokes later.  
  
“Patience, kid.” Saul says, a picture of Zen calm.  
  
“This is lame.  Why do people even play if it just makes you angry?”  
  
“What else were you thinking about when you were down there?”  
  
“Huh?  Well nothing, ‘cos I was too busy thinking about how dumb the sand was and how dumb the ball was and how I wanted to break the club, yo!”  
  
“That’s it, kid.”  
  
“What?”  Jesse looks at him, confused.  
  
“In that moment, right when you’re about to hit the ball, you’re not thinking about anything else.  Not work, not home, not any of those other things that might worry you.”  
  
Jesse looks at him, slowly grasping the idea.  
  
“It’s a chance to clear your mind.  For a moment, it’s just you and the ball, and nothing else matters.”

Saul's looking at Jesse like he can see into Jesse's soul, and puts a salve on it, taking some of the anguish within.  Jesse considers it for a moment.  Now that he's thinking about his form, maybe the demons are leaving for a few seconds.  Even that short relief is better than he was before.  He wants to reach out to Saul again, to thank him for lifting some of the weight from his spirit.  But he knows he's probably reading too much in to it.  Saul's just giving him some golf tips, nothing more. 

Jesse thinks about how he can respond without weirding Saul out.  
  
“Wow. . .that’s deep, yo.  Hey, is that why golf crowds do that goofy-as little clap?  So they don’t put the golf dudes off when they’re concentrating so hard?”  
  
“Yeah . . . and because people in a golf crowd are all pretentious assholes.”  
  
Saul grins at Jesse and they move on.

* * *

  
  
Jesse sets himself up and eyes up the seventh tee.  Saul studies him for a moment.  
  
“Do you mind - I mean is it okay if I. .” he gestures towards Jesse’s hands.  
  
“Yeah man, sure” Jesse says, like he’s surprised Saul thinks he needs to ask permission.  
  
“I think we can fix up your grip a little, that’s all - help you stay on line a bit more.”  He gently places his hands over Jesse’s, moving the other man’s thumbs until one covers the other, and sliding them around the grip so his wrists relax slightly.  
  
Jesse senses a warmth radiate out from his knuckles and worries slightly that Saul can feel it under his hands.  If he can, he doesn’t show it, merely giving his work a critical eye before appearing satisfied.  
  
“There, kid - give that a go.”  
  
Normally Jesse would hate someone watching him do something like this, suspicious of their motive and tensed up, ready for an inevitable criticism.  But in the last hour he’s realised he can relax around Saul.  Rather than Mr White’s perfectionist judgment, no matter what Jesse does, all Saul gives him is some suggestions and a gentle smile.  
  
Jesse swings again.  The ball traces a flat path, avoiding the magnetic pull of the trees, and lands in the middle of the fairway.  
  
Saul holds up his hand, and looks at Jesse expectantly.  
  
“What?”  
  
“C’mon, kid!  You’re not going to leave me hanging are ya?”  
  
Jesse grins and slaps Saul’s palm with a high five.  


* * *

  
  
Now that Jesse isn’t having to trace a web over the fairway he can follow Saul with the cart as they move up the course.  He pulls the handle with both hands behind him, puffing slightly as he moves in cheerful strides to keep up to the other man.  
  
“Ya know how you can tell golf is a lame-ass sport?” Jesse asks with a grin.  
  
“Oh, I still haven’t convinced you?” Saul raises an eyebrow.  “Well, tell me, Master Pinkman, what great insight you have.”  
  
“You know it’s lame because-" he puffs as he pulls the trundler up a rise “-there aren’t any movies about it.”  
  
“Oh really!” Saul replies with a scoff.  “What about Caddyshack, The Legend of Bagger Vance, or Happy Gilmour, huh?”  
  
Jesse pauses, slightly unprepared for Saul’s instantaneous reply.  “Nah, none of those count.  Caddyshack was basically about a gopher, Bagger Vance . . . just sucked, and Happy Gilmour - jeez, Adam Sandler, do I gotta say anything else?”  
  
Saul’s gives Jesse an oblique smirk as he digs himself in, then turns away again.  
  
“My theory still works.  You can measure a sport by the movies about it.  See, golf is so lame, even the movies are lame.”  
  
“Pfft.  Whatever, kid.”  
  
Jesse feels an ache, worrying that he’s just made himself sound stupid, until Saul faces Jesse again to give him a warm, endearing grin.  Jesse feels a burst of tingles in his chest, and he drops the cart handle, his senses overcome momentarily.  
  
Saul keeps walking then turns back when he realises Jesse is no longer behind him.  
  
“Hey!  C’mon, lazybones, time’s a wasting!”  
  
Jesse gathers himself and runs after Saul, cart wagging behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter! I just write this as it comes to me, and this is what apparently had to be written today.  
> I don't know how you 50k+ word people do it!  
> Thanks again for the kudos and comments - it's really humbling to have people whose writing I think is AMAZING saying they like this! :D


	6. Chapter 6

Saul looks at Jesse setting himself up on the ninth hole.  He’s amazed at how much Jesse’s improved just over half a round.  Every time he moves up to the ball now Saul can see the hard-edged determination and tenacity written all over him, a staunchness that’s almost intimidating. He has to take a moment to appreciate the privilege he’s been granted of being able to watch Jesse develop.  
  
But right now, there’s still something not quite right with his swing.  Saul looks at Jesse’s shoulders moving under his shirt, the lithe muscles pressed against the fabric. . .  
  
_Goodman, forget it.  What happened before meant nothing.  He didn’t hug you - you hugged him.  He just grabbed on to you like a drowning man grabs the nearest piece of flotsam._  
  
_You’re trash, Saul.  Don’t flatter yourself by thinking he’s interested.  Stick to golf._  
  
“Hey, kid, if I could make a suggestion-"  
  
Jesse looks up, mouth set purposefully, but his eyes are welcoming.  
  
“When you swing, think about swinging through the ball.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“Your swing isn’t done when you hit the ball.  You have to follow through out the other side.”  
  
Saul can see from Jesse’s expression that he hasn’t been clear, and gestures for Jesse to pass him the club.  
  
“Have you seen how I turn after I’ve hit the ball?”  He runs through a swing in slow-motion.  “If you stop your swing at the ball you don’t get all the power of your swing going into it.”  
  
“How does that work?  I’m hitting the ball as hard as I can, yo.”  
  
“It’s some subconscious thing.  If you think you’re stopping at the ball you slow down your swing right before you hit.  Taking the swing all the way through oughta take the brakes off.”  
  
He hands the club back to Jesse, who’s still looking at him sceptically.  “Anyway, give that a couple of practice runs so you can get the feel of it.”  
  
Jesse lines up again, still not sure.  
  
Feet.  Grip.  Swing. _Through_.  
  
The ball sails on a smooth curve, and keeps going.  Jesse watches opened mouthed as the ball continues its seemingly unending path, eventually falling to rest two hundred yards away.  
  
“Holy shit, dude.”  
  
Even Saul’s staring at the ball, wide-eyed.  “Yeah. . . whatever you just did - keep doing that.”  


* * *

  
  
“Nah, if I could be a superhero it’d be Iron Man”  
  
Saul’s pulling the cart this time, warm glow in his chest as he watches Jesse’s lively exposition.  
  
“It’d be mean having one of those suits.  I could just hide out in it, and if anyone tried to mess with me, boom!”  
  
Saul smirks.  “Paging Dr Freud.”  
  
“Huh?  No, Iron Man’s bad ass.  Why, who would you pick?  I bet it’s someone lame like Ant Man or Captain Planet or something.”  
  
“Nah, it’d be someone like the Riddler.”  
  
“No way!  It’s just ‘cos he wears that green suit, isn’t it?”  
  
Saul blushes slightly.  
  
“Well, since you brought it up, yeah, wearing a lime green suit is pretty appealing.  Unless you want me to wear lycra?”  
  
Saul raises an eyebrow at Jesse and grins.  The other man looks at the ground.  
  
“Um. . no.”  
  
“Anyway, what did Iron Man’s suit cost?  A billion dollars?  Not to mention the whole ‘nuclear-reactor-for-a-heart’ thing, which would probably get annoying at airport security after a while.  But the Riddler could shut down Gotham for about $8.50 just using a couple of bits of paper, a bit of sweet talking, and some snappy dressing.”  
  
Jesse’s fixing Saul with a deadpan look.  
  
“Dude, you’re just describing yourself.”  
  
“Oh, are you saying I already have super powers?” Saul says with a playful smirk.  
  
Jesse’s caught off-guard.  “Aw, shut up.  Besides, the Riddler needed, like, tons of henchmen to beat people up.  Iron Man can just deal with everything himself.”  
  
“What?  Like Iron Man never needs to call up the Avengers?”  
  
“What? No, I mean -"  Jesse just smiles frustratedly at Saul and gives him a friendly punch in the arm.  
  
“I will give you one thing, though.”  Saul looks back at Jesse.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Robert Downey Jr. is pretty hot.”  
  
Jesse’s eyes widen and he falters momentarily.  “Wait, what?  You go for dudes?”  
  
“Only the hot ones.” Saul replies, deadpan.  
  
Jesse’s not sure what to do with that information.  
  
_Unless. . . no.  He couldn't possibly . . ._  
  
  
  
They arrive at the green and Saul crouches down, mouth pinched as he reads the grain.  
  
“What’re you thinking?”  
  
“This is a bit of a tricky one.  Looks like it breaks high.”  
  
He paces around the hole, eyebrows knitted as he studies the ground from every angle.  Eventually he returns to his ball, gives it a careful tap, and watches it drift past the hole to the other side of the green.  
  
“God dammit.”  
  
He hears a quiet reminder from behind him.  
  
“Patience.”  Jesse’s leaning back on his club, a smirk on his face that thaws all Saul’s frustration as soon as he sees it.  He can’t help but let out a soft chuckle.    
  
“Show me how it’s done, smartass.”  
  
Jesse touches his putter to the ball, which gently curves a path over the green and into the hole. Saul lifts an eyebrow and notes down his score on the card.  
  
“Nice going, kid - only one over.  I’ll be surprised if you’re not getting par by the end of the round.”  
  
Jesse’s cheeky look drops, doubtful.    
  
“Actually?”  
  
Being told that someone believes in him can’t happen that often, judging by that reaction, Saul thinks.  But how can he not see how talented he is?  At that thought Saul feels a bite of pain as he realises again how crushing Jesse’s life must be that he can’t even believe he can be good at something.  If Saul can do one thing today, it’ll be to restore Jesse’s self-confidence.  
  
“Sure, kid.  You got this.”  
  
Jesse looks away, unable to meet the compliment head-on.  But at the sight of the small smile that appears on his face, Saul feels a warmth spread through his chest and into his soul.

* * *

  
  
“Are you thirsty?”  
  
Saul gestures to the bag as they arrive at the fifteenth hole.  
  
“Um. . yeah, I guess.”  
  
Jesse’s glad Saul thought of that.  He hadn’t really prepared for walking several miles when he left the house.  
  
“What do you want?” Saul unzips an insulated compartment of the bag and starts shuffling through it.  “We’ve got water, pop, Gatorade-“  
  
“No wonder this bag was so heavy!” Jesse exclaims as he investigates.  “Juice, iced tea. . . dude, is there anything you _didn’t_ pack?  Jesus, you’ve even got Yoohoo in here.”  
  
Saul looks at Jesse sheepishly.    
  
_Nice going, Goodman!  Couldn’t just make a decision, could you?  Now he probably thinks you have some sort of weird cold drink fetish!_  
  
“Well. . . I didn’t know what you liked, so . . . " He shrugs, and smiles apologetically.  
  
Jesse sighs as he realises what Saul’s just said.  It’s been so long since someone’s cared about him he’s almost forgotten what it looks like.  
  
“Yoohoo’s the bomb.  Lay it on me.”  
  
They sit at the table by the tee, enjoying their drinks in a slightly nervous silence.  Saul’s trying to decide whether Jesse actually likes Yoohoo or whether he was just being nice to him and not mentioning that bringing six types of drink is actually quite strange.  Jesse’s looking at the table, fidgeting with the carton as he drinks, mind elsewhere.  He returns to the moment with a decisive slurp, breaking the silence.  
  
“I never really thanked you.”  
  
“For what, kid?”  Saul looks at him with slight puzzlement.  
  
“For the cactus.”  
  
A stab of pain thrusts at Saul’s heart, his eyes squeezing shut at the memory.  The cactus.  Sure, it was a housewarming gift, but that was just an excuse.  He’d just wanted to give Jesse something - anything - and he hadn’t even been sure why, other than to thank Jesse for existing.  It was Fran’s idea, really, since Saul couldn’t decide on something that wouldn’t look too sentimental.    
  
But he hadn’t wanted Jesse to get involved in cooking again, only for Walt to get the message.  He didn’t think Jesse would get hurt . . .  
  
_But he did!  It’s your fault the kid is so messed up now!  Your fault.  If you hadn’t been so self-centred and greedy that you had to push everyone back in to the meth business none of this would have happened.  But no, you had to treat Walt like your meal ticket, and he pulled Jesse in with him.  How could you have thought that he wouldn’t? Of course Walt wanted to bring Jesse back in so he had someone to kick around.  So now his life is Gus, and the cartel, and being stuck in a basement, and murder, all thanks to you._  
  
Saul looks up at Jesse with damp eyes and it bursts out.  
  
“I’m so sorry, I never meant for any of this to happen, I didn’t think-“  
  
Saul feels something squeezing his arm, looks down at Jesse’s hand there, then back to Jesse, whose expression is concerned and puzzled.  
  
“Hey, slow down.  What are you talking about?”  
  
“It was my fault you got back into the meth business!  That day I came with the cactus, that was the start of you getting back into it!  If I hadn’t-"  
  
Saul breaks off abruptly as Jesse tips back with laughter.  
  
“You really think bringing me a cactus was the one thing that made me start cookin’ again?”  
  
“Well. . .”  
  
“Dude, you’re good, but you ain’t _that_ good.  Mr White would’a started up again, and found a way to get me back in, no matter what you did.”  
  
“But aren’t you angry at me for getting Walt back to cooking?”  
  
“Nah, man.  That wasn’t really you.  Yeah, maybe you changed the exact day he did it, but there’s no way the _Great Heisenberg_ would have stayed out of business long.  He likes it too much.”  
  
Saul looks at Jesse, still perplexed, unable to think of how to respond.  
  
“Look, it’s okay, all right?  Yeah, some things in my life are pretty shit right now, but it’s not your fault.”  Saul feels the squeeze on his arm again. “I mean, it’s totally the other way around, like, with the cactus - you’re the only one that’s done anything for me lately.”    
  
Jesse’s gaze falls to the ground.    
  
“Thanks for giving a damn about me.”  
  
Saul swallows hard.  “That’s okay, kid,” he manages to murmur.  
  
They sit there, bathed in awkwardness.  Eventually Saul coughs nervously, withdraws from the table and stands up.  
  
“You wanna get back to it?”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Saul wonders if he heard a tinge of disappointment in Jesse’s voice.

* * *

  
  
“Well, kid, you made it to the last hole.”  Saul gestures to the fairway in front of them.  “And just so you can finish with a bang, they’ve made it a cape hole.”  
  
“A what?”  
  
“A cape hole.  See how you’ve got that lake right there-“ he points to a large water feature that sits directly between them and the green “-well the fairway curves around it, like a cape.”  
  
“That’s not like a cape, yo.”  
  
“No, not like that, not like a superhero cape, it’s a geographic cape.  Where land curves around water.”  Saul gives him a look of mock exasperation.  “Anyway, kid, the point is you’ve got two choices - you can play your ball in a couple of shots around the curve, or, if you think you can do it, you can power it straight up to the hole.  But be warned - any less than 230 yards in your drive and your ball will land right in the drink.”  
  
He gives Jesse a cautious raise of the eyebrow.  
  
“What’s it going to be, kid?”  
  
Jesse gives him a brash smirk.  “Head-on, yo!  I got this.”  
  
Saul inhales sharply.  The way Jesse looked with some self-belief was enough, but the wicked look in his eye is so much that Saul almost has to knaw on his fist.    He distracts himself by taking his shot first, choosing the safer path around the lake, then hands the driver back to Jesse.  However, he can’t help but be captivated by the assured command Jesse radiates as he grasps the club.  
  
Jesse squares himself up, runs through a couple of practice swings, then with almost instinctive ease he swings through the ball.  It flies smoothly over the water, coming to rest near the green.  
  
“Yeah!  Follow-through, bitch!” He turns back to Saul, grinning madly.  Saul just wants to ruffle a hand through his hair, put an arm around his shoulders, pull Jesse in. . .  
  
_You did a good thing today, Goodman.  Don’t ruin it._  
  
  
  
  
Jesse takes two shots to get his ball on to the green, so he has to sink this putt on the first try if he’s going to make par.  Saul’s already shot his, giving Jesse a reasonable idea of the lie of the green, but he’s still nervous.  He crouches and narrows his eyes, mentally tracing the paths the ball could take.  The shot isn’t too far, but there’s a decent slope.  Speed is going to be important, but that’s going to affect his break . . .  
  
“I know you can do this, Jesse.”  
  
He hardly hears the words, feeling only a warmth that moves through him.  He closes his eyes and breathes deeply as the sensation moves through his body, leaving his mind entirely clear.  He steps back to the ball, pure calmness, and swings.  It’s in.  
  
Saul gives Jesse a broad smile and claps a hand on his arm.    
  
“Nice work, kid.”  
  
Jesse can’t think of anything to say, only that he wants to bury himself in the warmth that Saul gives him.  He throws his arms around Saul’s shoulders, wrapping him with a firm hug.  The unexpected move leaves Saul slightly dazed, hands hovering above Jesse uncertainly for a few seconds before he places them around Jesse’s waist.  
  
Jesse melts as the reassuring weight of Saul surrounds him, presses himself in closer and nestles between the softness of Saul’s woollen vest and the smooth warmth of his clean-shaven cheek.  Saul holds him snugly, broad hands enclosing him.  They stay like that for some time, not saying anything, not needing to say anything, basking in the embrace.  
  
Jesse didn’t plan to do it.  
  
Rough stubble slowly scrapes against Saul’s cheek as Jesse’s head turns.  Saul leans into the sensation, but then feels a wave of tingles as Jesse’s lips ghost across his own.  He moves back enough to look at Jesse, and raises his eyebrow, a silent question.  
  
Jesse answers by pressing his lips to Saul’s.    
  
Saul can’t help the gasp he lets out as Jesse continues to move his lips against Saul’s.  He’s almost paralysed by the jolt that hits his chest and he clutches on to Jesse, like he might wake at any moment.  But he doesn’t wake, this is happening, and he returns the kiss, hands slowly relaxing so they can spread themselves over Jesse’s back and shoulders, absorbing the shape of his body.  
  
Their lips pull apart and move together, finding a rhythm that doesn’t push for anything other than continuing this moment.  Saul feels Jesse’s hand cup itself around the back of his neck, fingers pushing through his hair, the other hand brushing down his side and resting on his hip.  
  
Jesse hums with contentment.  Saul’s holding him firmly but not possessively, in a way that lets Jesse know he’s the one in control.  He can feel whole parts of his soul moving, like the planets have been realigned, smothering the pain inside.  But thoughts of his cold, desolate house start cutting in to Jesse’s thoughts.  He crushes himself against Saul, trying to push them out of the way, but still the imminent loneliness intrudes on his consciousness.  
  
Sensing Jesse’s unease Saul slows down and gives a long, lingering kiss before he gently pulls away, resting his forehead against Jesse’s.  
  
“Are you going to be okay tonight?” he asks, voice barely a whisper.  
  
Jesse keeps his eyes closed and breathes deeply, trying to absorb as much of Saul as he can before they have to part.  
  
“I . . . I don’t want to be alone.”  
  
Saul brings his hand to Jesse’s cheek and fixes him with soft eyes.  
  
“You don’t have to be.  I can be there, if you want me to.”  
Jesse looks at him forlornly, defenceless and exposed.  Saul leans in and gently kisses him again, chastely, a kiss that tells Jesse he’s safe.  
  
“Not for anything you don’t want.  Just to be there.”  
  
“Yeah. . .um. . . I’d like that.”  
  
Saul slides a hand down Jesse’s arm and intertwines their fingers, clutching Jesse’s hand with an affirming squeeze.  
  
“Anything for you, kid.”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how I went with this one, character-wise (and even plot-wise)(and writing-wise, but that's usual!), so please let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and kudos everyone! I know this one has been in the works a while longer (stupid work, ugh) so I hope it lives up to expectations!

“Do you, like, wanna grab a bite to eat or something first?” Jesse asks as they load the clubs back into the Caddy.  
  
“Sounds like a plan.  What do you feel like?”  
  
“Urgh, just any sort of food.  I’m starving.  Actually there’s a place that’s on the way we can stop in at.”  
  
“I’m at your service, kid.  Show me the way.”  
  
Jesse directs Saul through the suburbs of Albuquerque along a path that’s vaguely familiar.  It’s only when they arrive and Saul sees the neon lights that he remembers.  
  
“What’s so funny, yo?”  
  
“Oh, nothing,” Saul says at he looks wistfully at the smiling wiener dog.  
  
Jesse wonders briefly about asking more but decides against it.  “Whatever, man.”  
  
They place their orders and slide in to one of the tables.  
  
“So have I convinced you of the merits of playing golf?” Saul asks with a grin.  
  
“I dunno, man.  Apart from us I didn’t see anyone there who was less than a hundred.”  
  
“We didn’t see anyone else there!”  
  
“So?  My point still holds.” He gives Saul a cheeky smile.  
  
Saul rolls his eyes and laughs.  “Talk about semantics.  Jeez, I thought I was supposed to be the lawyer here.”  
  
Jesse starts to laugh too but his attention breaks away as a shout from the window signals their order is ready.  
  
“I’ll get it,” he says excitedly, and Saul has to smile at Jesse’s delighted jump out of his seat.  
  
As he stands at the window the light from above strikes his outline against the night darkness behind.  His golfing outfit leaves a lot less to the imagination than his normal clothes and Saul’s eye traces down his body, pausing over the trim, tightly muscled curves. He wasn’t sure what he now had going on with Jesse.  Clearly, the kid appreciated some support, and Saul was glad he could be there for him.  But what was in that kiss?  Something more?  He didn’t want to push . . .  
  
Two plates land on the table with a smack.  
  
“Check it out, yo!”  
  
Jesse grins at the hot dogs laden with sauce for a second before grabbing his and devouring it.  
  
“Mmmm. . . this is _so good_ ,” he moans, before looking at Saul’s still untouched one.  “Hey man, are you gonna eat that?  ‘Cause I will if you don’t”  
  
Saul shakes his head and laughs as he picks it up.  
  
“Never change, kid.”

* * *

  
  
They drive back toward Jesse’s house but he’s slightly surprised when Saul pulls up outside a drug store.  
  
“What do you need here?  I’ve got stuff at my place.”  
  
“Well, if I’m going to be staying overnight I need a toothbrush.”  
  
“You can just borrow mine, ya know, it’s no problem.”  
  
“No offence, kid, but oral hygiene is very important.  Your toothbrush could hold bacteria that cause cold sores, mouth ulcers, bleeding gums-”  
  
“Okay, okay!  Enough with the science of disgustingness lesson.  Jeez.”  
  
Saul smiles at him as they go inside.  
  
  
Jesse looks around at the other assorted late night customers circulating through the store while Saul inspects the various brushes on offer.  One seems to be trying to camouflage that fact that he's buying adult diapers by covering them with boxes of tissues.  Another is standing by the candy, vacantly staring and clearly in no hurry to focus his eyes.  
  
“Something funny, kid?” he inquires as Jesse chuckles to himself.  
  
“Well, I was just thinking there’s only, like, three reasons why you’d be in a drug store this late.”  
  
“Which are?”  
  
“If you’re hella sick, or you got lucky, or if you got high and need some munchies.”  
  
“Really?”  And because Saul is Saul, he raises an eyebrow, leans in slightly and lowers his voice.  “Which one am I?”  
  
Jesse blushes and turns away before punching Saul on the arm.  
  
“Shut up,” he says, with a grin.

* * *

  
They park outside Jesse's house and get out.

 _How the hell did this happen, Saul?_  
  
He can feel the adrenaline rising as he follows Jesse up the path to the front door.  Jesse’s actually inviting him in.  He has to take a breath to compose himself as he crosses the threshold.  
  
“Moved away from the minimalism?”  
  
“What?  Oh, yeah.  I got stuff in here now.  Check out my dope sounds.” He points proudly to the massive speakers.  
  
Saul moves in to the audio rack and gives it a critical eye.  He turns to Jesse.  
  
“Is that a vacuum tube amp? And aluminium cones too - nice!”  
  
“Yeah. . . how did you know?”  
  
Saul chuckles.  “Call it a . . . mis-spent youth.”  
  
He gives Jesse a knowing smile that suggests they may have more in common than Jesse first thought.  The younger man ponders the possibilities for a moment, but figures he’ll save those questions for another time, and returns to practicalities.  
  
“This couch here is pretty good.  It’s a pull-out.” He demonstrates by flattening the couch in question into a double bed.  “And I’ll grab you some blankets and stuff.”  
  
“Thanks,” Saul replies as Jesse immediately moves off, returning a short time later with a couple of flat sheets and a fluffy blue duvet.  Saul glances at the furry mass and back at Jesse with a questioning eyebrow.  
  
“What?  It’s the bomb.  Gotta stay warm at night, yo.”  There’s an edge in Jesse’s voice as he remembers those nights in the Crystal Ship, nights without sleep, nights where he was so cold he couldn’t speak, so cold he could feel it in his bones.  
  
“Oh, uh. . . it’s okay, kid.  I appreciate the thought.”  
  
Together they make the bed.  When they finish Jesse looks up at Saul cautiously.  
  
“I guess you wanna . . . shower up?” Saul can hear a hesitation in Jesse’s voice, the pause that comes from thoughts not put into words.  
  
“Yeah, spending all afternoon in the sun sure builds up a sweat.”  
  
Jesse’s scratching the back of his head uncertainly.  “I s’pose you’re gonna need, like, clothes to change into, or something?”  
  
“Only if you can spare them, kid - I can always work something out.”  
  
“Nah, it’s cool, it’s cool.  I’ve probably got stuff that’ll fit you.”  
  
Saul had to give a small chuckle at that.  Jesse’s clothes were so baggy some of them would probably even fit Huell.  
  
“Hey, whatever you’ve got, kid.  I’m easy.”  It’s only as he’s saying it that Saul realises how that could be misconstrued, but he rolls with it anyway, giving Jesse a cheeky smirk.  Jesse just rolls his eyes at him and groans.  
  
  
  
Jesse’s given Saul a towel, an old t-shirt and some sweatpants that may even be big enough to fit, but when Saul hops in the shower cubicle he sighs with disappointment.    
  
_It had to be taps, didn’t it?  God dammit.  Should have bought the kid a shower mixer._  
  
He spends the next couple of minutes doing micro-adjustment of the taps until he finds a temperature that doesn’t peel the skin off his back or freeze his ass off.  Eventually he finds a comfortable setting and he relaxes as the warm water passes over him, heat permeating his muscles.  
  
It’s the first chance he’s had to think in a while, and he leans against the side of the shower with his eyes closed as the accumulated thoughts of the last eight hours suddenly crowd through his brain.  
  
_The 3rd hole should have been an easy putt._  
_This is the first time you’ve been away from Jesse in the last six hours._  
_Watch the hip swivel on your drive._  
_The kid stuck with you through a whole round of golf._  
_Probably need to check the milk in the office._  
_Is the grey pinstripe suit back from the dry cleaners yet?_  
_Jesse kissed you._  
  
_And now you’re naked, in his house._  
  
Only a slight burn from the water snaps him back to the moment.  Shower.  Yes.  There are a couple of bottles of gel on the shelf, but a bar of soap to the side catches Saul’s eye.  It’s only a plain soap from a drug store but Saul immediately recognises Jesse’s scent.  He picks it up and inhales deeply and his brain feels like it’s uncoiling as the essence permeates his senses.  But there’s no way he can use this.  He picks up another bottle, washes himself off, and gets dressed, pleasantly surprised.  The clothes fit pretty well, even if the sweatpants are a bit short, although Fran would give him hell forever if she found out he wore a Biggie Smalls t-shirt.  
  
Saul pads back through to the lounge to find Jesse crouching down looking through a stack of DVDs.  Evidently Saul was very quiet or the other man was engrossed in what he was doing, because he looks up at Saul with a start.  Saul’s hair is still damp, his skin flushed pink, and his eyes are showing a contented tiredness, the sort of expression Jesse’s sometimes seen on him after he’s come back from a successful day in court.  
  
“Everything all good?” Saul asks.  
  
“Yeah, fine.”  
  
Jesse slowly stands up and closes the distance between them.  Saul feels a hit of anticipation and tries to regain his senses, but can’t stifle a small gasp.  
  
“That’s . . . good.”    
  
Jesse doesn’t look him in the eye, but brings one finger down Saul’s torso, slowly tracing a path from his chest to his stomach, only stopping when he hits Saul’s waistband.  He pauses, still looking down, like he’s waiting for something.  Saul takes this as his cue and slides a hand around Jesse’s hip, thumb rubbing over the jut of bone, pulling him in until he can feel the touch of Jesse’s breath on his skin.  Jesse looks up at him and studies his face.  There’s a damp lock of hair falling partly across his right eye, water droplets still hanging to the ends.  His eyebrow is quirked up slightly.  His lips are parted.    
  
_And oh god his eyes are blue._  
  
Jesse leans in and kisses Saul, wrapping his hands around the other man’s waist.  It’s soft and slow as Jesse takes his time, just exploring what it’s like being connected together like this.  Kissing Saul just feels so right, so natural.  He sucks at Saul’s lower lip and feels hands splaying across his back, pulling more tightly.  Saul’s lips part and he moans as Jesse slides his tongue in.  His nerve endings tingle with pleasure as their tongues meet.  
  
Jesse’s not sure if he’s ever met anyone who’s as good a kisser as Saul is.  As their lips continue to move together and break apart heat starts building in Jesse's gut and he feels blood flowing downward.  He realises Saul’s erection is pressed against his leg, but Saul isn’t pushing for anything, just holding Jesse tightly and letting him lead.  
  
But even though it seems like Saul won’t go further, Jesse doesn’t know if he’s ready yet for what could happen.  So he slowly pulls away, running both hands down Saul’s chest before looking back up at him.  
  
Saul just gives him a gentle smile.  
  
“It’s okay, kid”  
  
There’s a beat as Jesse gathers his thoughts.  He likes being with Saul. He likes the way Saul makes him feel cared about and valued.  Saul doesn’t get off on trying to cut him down - he makes him feel empowered.  And kissing him feels so, so good.  But more than that . . .  
  
“How about you pick us a movie?”  
  
“Um, yeah. . .” Jesse scratches behind his head as he returns to the pile of DVDs.  “How about The Bourne Ultimatum?  Or Terminator?”  
  
“They both sound good.  I’ll grab some drinks and you can set it all up.”  Saul runs a hand down Jesse’s side and smiles before he turns and moves off to the kitchen.  
  
He comes back with some beers and a pack of chips and they set themselves up on the couch, sitting close together with the duvet laid over them both.  
  
“Hey!  Don’t you be stealing all my blanket, man!” Jesse says with mock indignation as Saul readjusts the duvet.  Saul just raises an eyebrow at him.  
  
Jesse grips the blanket defensively and wriggles himself into position.  “Dude’s gotta get comfy, yo.”  
  
  
  
They relax into the couch, sipping their beers and occasionally bantering about the film.  When Saul finishes his beer he puts aside thoughts of getting another.  He can feel the warm press of Jesse’s body against his side and doesn’t want to be anywhere else.  
  
Jesse looks over at him.  
  
“It’s okay if you get another - I’ve got plenty in there.”  
  
Saul gazes at Jesse, light from the TV reflecting on his face, a warm flush in his cheeks, blankets tucked around his chin.  
  
_He’s perfect._  
  
“Nah. . . I don’t really want to move.”  
  
Jesse holds his gaze.  
  
“Neither do I.”

There's a beat as they look at each other, but Jesse flicks his eyes away, biting his lip.

 _Not yet._  
  
They continue to watch the movie but a short while later Saul can see Jesse’s eyelids start to droop.  He gradually leans more heavily into Saul until eventually his eyes close, and he falls asleep across Saul’s chest.  
  
Saul looks at him and sighs in contentment.  He places a gentle kiss against his head.  
  
“Goodnight, Jesse.”

* * *

  
  
Consciousness wafts through Jesse’s mind.  He feels like he’s been poured over whatever he’s lying on, bonelessly draped across it.  It’s warm and there’s something soft against his chin.    
  
_This is so comfy.  Nobody has ever been this comfy.  Ever._  
  
The lump he’s on is slowly rising and falling.  A faint beat comes through one ear.  It’s delightfully soothing; almost hypnotic.  
  
_Am I on a boat?  Is this a dream?  This is too good.  It must be a dream._  
  
He keeps his eyes shut just in case, because he doesn’t want to wake up.  There’s a weight gently holding him that makes him feel safe and secure.  When was the last time he felt this content?  Jesse nuzzles in, trying to get closer to the source of the warmth, burying his face in what feels like soft cotton.  
  
_Did I get high?  What on?  Man, this is good.  Did Mr. White get in to growing as well?_  
  
Something - someone? - is stroking his hair, fingertips gently passing over his scalp, behind his ears, down his neck.  He’s vaguely aware of letting out a low hum, and then the caress moves over him again, curving around the back of his head.  Jesse pushes up towards the stroking until his head meets something firm and slightly scratchy.  There’s a small huff of air across the top of his head and a faint chuckle, and then a broad palm starts slowly rubbing circles across his back.  
  
A voice is softly talking to him from somewhere.  The part of Jesse’s brain that understands speech doesn’t seem to be working, so he just lets the husky sounds pass across his thoughts.    
  
_It’s okay.  You can keep talking.  Your voice sounds hot._  
  
“Go back to sleep, Jesse,” it whispers, so he does.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and kudos everyone! Sorry about the delay again.

Jesse wakes in an unfamiliar bed.  He’s lying across someone’s chest and their arm is across his shoulders.    
  
_Good going, bro!_  
  
But they feel different from usual.  Larger.  Sturdier?  
  
_Oh._  
  
_Ohhhh._  
  
Memories of the previous day slowly reassemble themselves in Jesse’s mind.  Playing golf with Saul.  Marvelling at the greenery.  Looking like an ass trying to hit the ball.    
  
And then breaking down.    
  
All the shit going on in his life was bad enough, but up until now he’d been able to control it, hide it.  As far as the world was concerned, he was the blowfish.  But suddenly it had become too much.  Jesse had been completely exposed in front of someone else, all his weaknesses on show.    
  
But Saul had held him, given him reassurance and comfort.  Unlike anyone else he knew in his life right now, Saul had taken care of him.  They’d come home together, but Saul hadn’t done anything Jesse didn’t want.  Jesse couldn’t think of another time someone had seen him so defenceless and hadn’t tried to use that against him.  
  
Jesse’s arm tightens around the other man’s waist as he remembers.  He presses himself in to Saul’s side, trying to draw himself closer.  The warmth and heft of Saul’s body are so comforting.  Jesse had always prided himself on being able to stand up to the world by himself, not relying on anyone.  It didn’t matter how much life threw at him - school, his parents, drugs - he was hard enough to take it.  But the thought of someone else there to stand beside him is something new.  Everyone who had helped him had only ever done it because there was something in it for themselves.  Jesse thought the same about Saul to begin with.  The lawyer was just trying to get as much out of him and Walt as possible.  But that didn’t explain what he was doing now.  
  
Saul stirs awake, and looks down at Jesse.  His brow creases, unsure about how the other man will react, in case he’s come to his senses overnight and wants Saul out.  
  
Jesse turns his head and gazes up.  Light filters through the curtains and glints Saul’s hair with copper.  The open, blue eyes, the hesitance in his expression - they all tell Jesse that this is a man he can trust with his soul.  
  
He can do nothing else but close his lips to Saul’s.  
  
They kiss slowly and intensely.  Jesse inches his way across until he’s lying on top of Saul, hands pushing through his hair.  Saul lets out a low hum as he closes his arms across Jesse’s back, hands spreading over Jesse’s shoulders, mapping the fine ripples of his musculature.  Jesse feels a wave of heat pass through his body and he slips his tongue past Saul’s lips.  His hand slides down Saul’s chest, coming to rest on his hip, pulling their bodies closer.  
  
Their mouths continue to move against each other for some time.  Jesse could stay there forever, but he realises he has to go to work.  Mr White would give him hell if he turned up late.  And he’d start asking questions.  For now, Jesse wants to keep what he has with Saul to himself - a thought that he alone can enjoy.  
  
Reluctantly, he breaks away from Saul.  The other man’s expression flashes with concern as Jesse pushes himself up.  
  
“Did I . . . ?”  
  
“Nah, man.  I just have to go to work, is all.”  
  
“Oh,” Saul starts, hesitantly.  “So - you’re good with this?”  
  
“Yeah.  That was . . .” He looks down at Saul’s chest, thinking.  How does he sum up everything that he’s feeling right now?  
  
“That was dope.  We should do it again.”  
  
They look at each other for a moment, then Jesse grunts reluctantly as he throws off the duvet and shuffles off to the shower, leaving Saul sitting on the side of the bed.  He rubs his hands over his face and collects his thoughts. 

Yeah, he did just wake up to Jesse kissing him.  And Jesse’s okay with that.  And he wants to do it again.  Saul wonders for a moment just how this is going to pan out, but snaps back to reality when he realises what the time is.  
  
_Fuck. 8.30.  Going to have to sweet-talk the first 3 appointments.  And Fran.  FUCK FUCK FUCK!_  
  
Saul’s on his phone when Jesse returns.  He stops in the doorway and studies the other man for a moment.  The sudden switch in his whole manner is striking against his current surroundings.  The broad hand gestures, the confident stance, the assured chuckles - this is Saul _sauling_.  Jesse finds himself watching, fascinated, as the other man verbally weaves his way through his client’s issues.  He moves closer to Saul, almost hypnotised by his movements.  
  
Saul catches Jesse’s eye and smiles as he finishes up his last call, snapping his phone shut.  
  
“Sorry I can’t hang around, kid - duty calls,” he says with a smirk.    
  
“Yo, aren’t you gonna need a shower or something?”  
  
“Nah, I’ll go back home and freshen up.  Image is everything!” But then the persona dissolves as his expression softens with concern, biting his lip.  He puts a hand around Jesse’s shoulder.  
  
“Are you going to be okay?” he asks softly.  
  
“Yeah,” Jesse replies, gratefulness in his eyes.  
  
Saul rubs his hand on Jesse’s shoulder and smiles, then finds Jesse’s hands sliding around his waist, pulling him closer.  Their foreheads touch, and they rest there, eyes closed, sharing each other’s presence for a while.  
  
“Anything you need, Jesse - anything, any time - just call, okay?”  
  
“I will.”  After a moment he adds, “And thanks.  For. . . y’know.  Everything.”  
  
Saul looks at him with a soft smile and closes in for a final kiss before parting.  He drinks in the sensation, memorising the softness of Jesse’s lips, the scrape of his stubble, the glow he feels in his chest.  Jesse’s hands press into the small of his back, but slowly move to his hips.  Saul takes one last look, one hand running down Jesse’s arm as he moves away, sliding down his forearm, to his fingers, until they’re finally separated, and he turns and walks out the door.  
  
  
  
Saul stops by his house to hastily shower up.  After he towels off he holds several shirts up to the light before deciding on a deep plum, and picks a charcoal suit and blue paisley tie to go with it.  
  
Fran gives him grief when he arrives.  He lays on the Goodman charm, but she just looks at him, wearily.  
  
“If you keep calling me HT you’re not going to have someone that can bail you out like this, Saul.  Just get in there and do your job.”  
  
He gives her an apologetic smile and strides into his office, hand outstretched for a firm handshake.  The facade is up, the professional is on show.    
  
He glides his way through the days issues with practiced ease.  He points out some options to Mr Jefferson for his defence, and arranges some paperwork.  Mrs Kramer’s house sale is cleared up easily enough with a phone call to the agent. The Parker kid would need some help from his friends on the alibi front and some sweet-talking with the DA, but a short spell of community service wouldn’t do him any harm.  
  
And at the end of it all, Saul drives home and slowly shrugs of his outer layers, hanging his jacket up, dropping his briefcase by the counter, and taking his shirt off.  Then he smiles a small smile to himself.    
  
Because underneath it all, all day, he’s been wearing a Biggie Smalls t-shirt.

* * *

  
  
Saul didn’t expect Jesse to call that day.  Or the next.  Or even the one after that.  But after a week, he starts to wonder.  
  
_Maybe he’s busy?  Walt can be a real hard-ass._  
  
_He did say it was good, right?  He did say that._  
  
_But . . . how good is good?  Maybe he decided he’s just not that in to you._  
  
_What did you expect, Goodman?  You’re a strip-mall lawyer the wrong side of 40.  What do you have that he’d want?_

  
  
“Who is she?” Fran asks in a slack period one day.  
  
_Nine days and two hours since you last saw Jesse._  
  
“What?”  
  
“You’re pining, Saul.”  
  
“I am _not_ pining,” he pouts at her.  
  
“Jesus, Saul.  You know I know you.  And I know you’re pining.  Pining so hard you’re going to have to be declared the Goodman State Forest.  So, who is she?”  
  
“Well . . .” Saul begins, hands flailing slightly as he thinks about how he’s going to explain the situation.  
  
“Oh it’s a he?”  
  
Saul looks at her with frustrated annoyance.  “How do you _do_ that?”  
  
“Do what?” Fran asks with mock innocence.  
  
“You know, the . . . thing.  _That_ thing!”  He gestures vaguely between them.  Fran’s one of the few people Saul’s met that can see through all his layers.  He prefers to keep those people on his side.  
  
Fran just smirks at him.  “Well, obviously he’s causing you trouble.  What’s the problem?”  
  
Saul pauses for a moment, then sighs as he gives in.  “I like him.  I mean, I _really_ like him.”  
  
“But?” Fran asks with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“He hasn’t called in a week.”  
  
Fran sits back, considering his problem.  “How was your last . . . encounter?”  
  
“Oh, good, yeah.”  Saul shakes his head as he remembers.  “Although . . .”  He hesitates as he thinks about Jesse’s breakdown.  It feels somehow like it would be breaking a confidence to let Fran know about that.  Especially since she can read minds, apparently.  
  
“There were some . . . issues.  He kinda got reminded about some stuff in his past that he’d rather leave behind.”  
  
Fran contemplates the issue for a while.  “You brought up a lot of emotions, not all of them pleasant.  Even if he did have a good time, he may still need a while to sort everything out in his own mind.  Give him a bit longer.”    
  
She suddenly leans forward as a thought comes to her.  “Wait, you have called him, right?”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
Fran rolls her eyes at him.  “God, Saul!  You of all people!”  
  
“Well. . .” he starts, sheepishly.  
  
Fran smiles a bit.  “He even made you shy.  You really like him, don’t you?”  
  
Saul just bites his lip, and nods.

 

* * *

That night he rings Jesse.    
  
No answer.

* * *

  
  
As another week passes without any sign of Jesse, Saul begins to wonder if he’s okay.  
  
_Surely he would have come in?_  
  
_What if something happened to him?_  
  
_Could he have got caught up in the war with the cartel?_  
  
Saul goes home, not wanting to finish off that thought.  All he does is curl up in bed, clutch Jesse’s t-shirt just a bit tighter than usual, and try not to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to end that there, but I wanted to get something out to you all! I'll try to finish the next one a bit more quickly!


	9. Chapter 9

Sixteen days after he last saw Jesse, Fran buzzes through to ask if he wants an unscheduled appointment.  
  
_Right on quitting time.  But . . . beggars can’t be choosers._  
  
“Yeah, send ‘im in.”  
  
Saul tries to clear some space on his desk, looks for anything incriminating he needs to put away, and mentally prepares his standard new client dialogue.  He sees what might be the flash of something familiar through the slight gap in the doorway but shuts down any hopeful anticipation.  He doesn’t want to be crushed again.    
  
But as Jesse’s lean form comes through the door the thought of being close to him again sends a jolt through Saul’s chest.  He can’t help but get up and go over to him.  
  
“Jesus, kid!  Are you -“ He puts an arm out towards Jesse, but stops short, wary as a hundred explanations for Jesse’s presence run through his head.  
  
“What’s up, yo?  You’re lookin’ at me like I’m a zombie or somethin’,”  Jesse says dismissively.  But when he sees the painful worry written in Saul’s features he knows he needs more of an explanation.  
  
“Sorry I didn’t get back to ya sooner.  There was a whole bunch of stuff to do at work, and then I had to go away on a gay-ass roadtrip with Mike.”  
  
Saul lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and his legs almost collapse under him.  
  
“Christ, kid!  I thought . . . I thought you might be . . . _dead_.”  
  
Jesse tips his head back and laughs, leaving Saul looking distinctly unimpressed.  He sits back of the edge of the desk, arms folded.  
  
“Aw jeez, kid.  I show a little concern and this is the thanks I get?  Remind me to be more a of heartless bastard next time.”  
  
Jesse wipes the tears from his eye as the laughs subside.  
  
“Naw, dude.  I might’a died of boredom, but that’s about it.  But if it’s thanks you want - “  
  
He closes with Saul and presses their lips together, Saul letting out a low hum and clutching Jesse in to him, tightly.  The thought of losing Jesse had grown since they last parted, slowly cutting through Saul’s soul as it seemed less and less likely that he would return.  Now that somehow, for once, fate has given him a break, he never wants to let Jesse go again.  
  
Jesse slips a hand inside Saul’s jacket, feeling the firmness of his body under the smooth damask cotton.  His tongue slides across Saul’s lower lip then flicks inside, tasting safety and comfort.  A warm glow fills his chest, the feeling that he can trust the other person totally, a feeling he’s only ever had with Saul.  Jesse skims his other hand over Saul’s back, coming to rest cradling his neck.  His fingertips slowly circle on Saul’s scalp, tangling in his hair.  
  
After some time, Saul breaks away and rests his forehead on Jesse’s shoulder.  
  
“I thought I might have lost you,” he whispers.  
  
As Jesse feels the weight Saul pressing against him he realises how drained the other man is.  He slowly circles his hand over Saul’s back in an effort to soothe him.  In a way, he’s a little bit glad that Saul’s like this, because he now knows it’s not just him who feels this way.  
  
“I missed you too,” Jesse replies.  Then, hesitantly, he adds, “I . . uh . . . can you come home with me tonight?”  
  
Saul brings his head up, quickly wiping across his face, and looks at Jesse with slightly confused expression.  “Of course, kid.  Anything.  You know that.”    
  
It’s only once Jesse has seen the redness in Saul’s eyes that he feels the dampness soaking through on his shoulder.  
  


* * *

  
  
Mike had dropped Jesse off, so they both take the Caddy back to Jesse’s place, grabbing a couple of pizzas on the way.  
  
“I can’t believe you get anchovies.  That shit is nasty, yo,” Jesse says as Saul carries in the precarious pile of boxes, fries and garlic bread.  
  
“Pfft.  It’s because I have a sophisticated sense of taste.  You just can’t appreciate the complexities of the flavour,” Saul replies, as he edges through the doorway.  
  
“Complexity my ass.  They’re just little hairy salt bombs.”  
  
Saul dumps the food down on the table and they both kick their shoes off.  Jesse immediately grabs his pizza box.    
“You keep your anchovy shit away from me.  I don’t want it infecting my pepperoni.”    
  
Saul shakes his head and smiles as he opens his pizza box and inhales the smell with theatrical relish.  
  
“Mmm, hairy salt bombs!”  He bites at the end of a slice and slowly pulls the cheese out, letting it drape across his chin, groaning as he does so.  “Oooh yeah, this is _soooo_ good.”  
  
Jesse gives him a disgusted look for a second before rolling his eyes at Saul, who replies with a mischievous eye and a smirk.  
  
“Yo, how did you even end up as a lawyer?  I thought lawyers were s’posed to be all sensible and boring ‘n shit,” Jesse inquires.  
  
“Well, for a start, kid, lawyers are not boring.”  He pauses and reconsiders his answer as he winds in the cheese strings.  “Okay, maybe a lot of them are.  But not all of them.  And as for me being a lawyer, well, it was a better option than being a criminal.”  
  
Jesse looks at him dubiously.  “What, are you saying you’re, like, a totally law-abiding citizen right now?” he asks, the sarcasm dripping off his words.  
  
“Sometimes I abide by the law, but sometimes I get the law to abide by me.  I guess the easiest way to think about it is: do you act the same way around your parents as you do around Walt?”  
  
The other man pauses and thinks.  “No, I s’pose not.”  
  
“Well that’s kinda like what I do.  But on a bigger scale.  You’re still you, but just showing a different side to the world.”  
  
“So, what, you’re saying you’re putting on an act?”  
  
“Sometimes I have to.  I did it a lot in the past, actually.  Tryin’ to please other people.  But I couldn’t keep it up all the time.”  Saul looks at the floor, his smile tinged with melancholy.    
  
“I was working at this top-line law firm.  I had a nice place, company Mercedes, the works.  Some people woulda said I had everything.  And I guess I did.  But it was definitely a place where the other lawyers were ‘boring ‘n shit’.  You couldn’t get more beige.  In the end I had to get myself fired just to break out of it.”  
  
“Huh?  Get fired?  Why didn’t you just quit?”  
  
“I would have lost my signing bonus.”  
  
Jesse shakes his head and laughs.  “Trust you,” he says, and gives Saul an affectionate shove.  But his hand stays closed over the ball of Saul’s shoulder, feeling the muscle below the shirt.  Jesse’s palm slowly moves across Saul’s back, sliding over his neck.  Saul looks at him, lips parted, slightly nervous with anticipation.  
  
Jesse leans in and closes his lips to Saul’s, his other hand moving up to touch his fingertips to Saul’s cheek, as if he might be overcome by sensation if he connected any more of them together.  
  
Jesse has to be honest with himself.  He’s in love with Saul.  He wants to be near him, has to be near him, he needs him like he needs air.  
  
They melt together in the embrace, Saul pulling Jesse back to lie on the couch, his arms wrapped around Jesse’s lower back.  He hums softly in the kiss as Jesse runs a finger around the inside of his waistband, tracing a line over his hip.  Jesse’s hand comes to rest on Saul’s ass and he squeezes, Saul unable to stifle a moan.  
  
Saul slides a hand under Jesse’s shirt, fingers running over his abs, tracing the lines of his ribs, circling a nipple.  He wants to map every square inch of Jesse’s skin, discover every curve of his form.  
  
Jesse’s response is to push his hand inside Saul’s pants and grab at his cock.  
  
Saul pulls back slightly, enough to look Jesse in the eye, to see the pupils blown wide with desire.  Their eyes meet, making an unspoken agreement, where they know they can completely trust themselves with each other.  
  
Jesse slowly and silently unfolds himself from Saul’s embrace and stands up, leaving him holding only on to Saul’s hand.  Saul looks up at him helplessly from the couch, overwhelmed for a moment, his desire so strong it’s painful.  
  
“It’s okay.”  
  
Saul follows Jesse as he leads him upstairs.  He can’t believe this is actually happening.  Somehow Jesse is too good, too pure.  
  
When they reach the bedroom Jesse can sense Saul’s hesitance, and he puts his lips so Saul’s softly, slowly.  He closes his arms over Saul’s shoulders, and he pulls him down on to the bed.  Jesse looks up at Saul above him, the hair falling over his eye, utterly perfect.    
  
Unlike anyone else he’s ever been with, he doesn’t want to fuck Saul.  He wants to take away all the barriers between them, open himself up to Saul completely.  Make love.  Jesse understood what that meant now.  
  
“May I?” Saul asks as he lifts at the hem of Jesse’s t-shirt.  Jesse nods, and Saul lets out a small gasp as he is greeted with the sight he has imagined for so long.  He immediately closes his mouth to Jesse’s nipple, tongue circling, gently pulling with his teeth.  
  
Jesse pulls Saul’s tie off and starts undoing the buttons on Saul’s shirt.  At another time he might have been annoyed with the hindrance of so many layers, but now he enjoys the anticipation, drawing out the process to savour every moment he is with Saul.  They grind together slowly, increasing the pleasure of Jesse’s gradually exposure of Saul’s chest.  He undoes the final button, allowing the red fabric of Saul’s shirt to fall open.  Saul undoes his cufflinks and places them to the side on the nightstand, finally allowing Jesse to remove his shirt entirely.  
  
Saul presses their mouths together again, relishing the feeling of his chest against Jesse’s, the soft, warm skin connecting them both, just pure sensation.  He moves his mouth down, kissing Jesse’s jaw, teeth gently pulling at his ear, tongue tracing down his neck.    
  
Saul’s hand moves down to Jesse’s belt, pulling it out of the loops, then stops at his zip.  
  
“Is this okay?” he whispers.  
  
Jesse sucks a kiss on Saul’s neck.  
  
“Yeah,” he breathes in reply.  
  
Saul flicks open Jesse’s fly and grasps at his jeans, dragging them off and throwing them to the end of the bed.  His hand slides up Jesse’s inner thigh as he makes his way back, tracing around the tip of his hardness, watching as Jesse’s eyes squeeze shut at the sudden rush of sensation.  
  
Jesse returns the favour, pulling Saul in for a deep kiss as he moves his hands down to Saul’s belt buckle.  He grips at Saul’s cock through the fabric of his pants, forcing a moan out of the other man’s mouth.  Jesse feels the sound sending a wave of pleasure right through his torso, the heat pooling in his gut.  
  
He loosen’s Saul’s belt and Saul shuffles his pants off, pushing them off the side of the bed.  Jesse can feel a heat of anticipation in his hand as he finally reaches for the waistband of Saul’s boxers, pulling them away and exposing Saul’s cock, red-flushed and hard.  
  
Saul arches into the touch as Jesse closes a hand around him, thumb circling at the tip, and for a moment thinks he might come right then.  He crushes his lips to Jesse’s, tongue thrusting into his mouth.  He pulls off Jesse’s boxers and wraps his hand around Jesse’s length, Jesse gasping and swearing in response.  
  
They thrust into each other’s fists, hands slick with precome.  Jesse twists his hand around the head of Saul’s cock, fingers flicking over the ridge one by one as his hand passes up and down.  Saul gently palms Jesse’s balls then grips at Jesse’s shaft, Jesse pushing harder into the glorious tightness.  
  
It’s not long before the heat, the pleasure, is too much for Jesse to hold back.  
  
“ _Saul_ ,” he warns, before spilling over Saul’s fist, onto their chests.  
  
Saul groans as he too is pushed over the edge, almost blinded as the orgasm hits him like a freight train, still almost unbelieving that it’s Jesse he has below him gasping with pleasure, it’s Jesse who has his hand gripped around Saul’s length.  
  
Saul brings his head down to lick at Jesse’s cock, tongue gently lapping at his torso to clean him off, savouring Jesse’s taste.  
  
They collapse together, kissing languidly through the comedown, bathing in the afterglow.  They lie there for what might be minutes, or days, hands moving on skin, lips locking and unlocking, nothing mattering except being together.  
  
Saul eventually breaks off and rests his head on Jesse’s shoulder.  
  
“I want you.  Inside me,” he whispers.  
  
Jesse pushes his head up and looks at Saul with a knitted brow.  
  
Saul hurriedly tries to backpedal.  “Oh, sorry, if that’s not . .”  
  
“Naw, it’s okay, I just thought that . . . I mean, I’ve never done it that way around.”  
  
That’s not quite the response Saul was expecting.  “Are you sure?” he inquires, hand gently tracing down Jesse’s cheek.  “You don’t have to.”  
  
Jesse fixes his eyes on Saul’s then pulls him in for a deep kiss.  He’s never desired anything so much in his life as he wants to share this connection with Saul.  
  
“I want to.”  
  
Jesse closes his arms over Saul’s shoulders and rolls them over, the slides a hand down Saul’s side, over his hip, to his knee, pulling it up.  He grabs the bottle of lube and places a glob in his palm, warming it on his fingers.  He wants to get this right for Saul.  
  
Saul bites his lip as Jesse moves his hand down and begins circling his entrance.  Jesse gently presses a finger inside Saul and it’s enough to send a lighting bolt through him, his head arching back into the pillow.  The sight of the pleasure on Saul’s face sends the blood back to Jesse’s cock, twitching with desire.  
  
Jesse gingerly pushes his finger further inside, not wanting to go too quickly.  
  
“Is this okay?”  
  
Saul nods.  He could handle more, but he doesn’t want to criticize Jesse for being too gentle.  Feeling the kid trying to protect him just makes him love Jesse even more.  
  
Jesse feels Saul begin to open around his fingers, so he adds another and begins pushing deeper.  He circles the pads of his fingertips until Saul lets out a blissful swear.  
  
“Now, Jesse.  Please,” he asks.  
  
Jesse edges his fingers out and takes another glob of lube, smothering his length.  He’s painfully hard and desperate to get inside Saul, but he forces himself to go slowly, inch by inch.  Saul lets out a loud groan as Jesse finally penetrates him.    
  
The feeling of Saul’s tightness enclosing his cock overwhelms Jesse’s senses and he has to squeeze his eyes shut, forcing himself not to come right then.  He begins with shallow thrusts, but Saul puts his legs around Jesse, pushing him with his heels.    
  
“Is it good for you?” Jesse asks.  
  
Saul rolls his hips up to meet him, taking in Jesse’s whole length.  He crunches himself up so that their lips meet and he kisses Jesse deeply, tongue swirling over Jesse’s own.  
  
He looks up at the earnest concern in the other man’s eyes and runs a hand over his cheek.    
  
“Don’t worry, Jesse.  It’s the best.”  
  
Jesse gradually adds more power to his thrusts, the sight of pleasure exploding across Saul’s face when he tags Saul’s prostate urging him on.  He doesn’t know how long he can last being gripped by Saul like this.  He brings down a hand and wraps it around Saul’s cock, hoping it gives the other man as much pleasure as he as giving him.  Judging by the shouted _oh fuck Jesse!_ it does.  
  
Saul’s hands clutch at Jesse’s ass, clenching as the heat builds.  Their hips move together and apart, tempo driving upward as their instincts take over.  Jesse slams into Saul’s ass again and again and Saul arches up as the electricity courses through him, the pleasure radiating out.  
  
Jesse’s hand closes over Saul’s cock again and it’s too much, the orgasm blazing across his senses.  A few seconds later Jesse finally knows he can’t hold on any longer.  
  
“I’m gonna-“ is all he can gasp out before he is pushed over the edge.  
  
Saul groans as Jesse fills him up, holding him in to feel it deep inside him.  He wraps his arms around Jesse, pulling him in for a long, deep kiss.  Jesse can feel Saul’s hands shaking slightly on his back, but he’s not worried because he’s doing it too.  They fall together, exhausted.  
  
Jesse gently withdraws, and lies at Saul’s side, a finger tracing at Saul’s chest.  That was . . . he doesn’t even know what that was.  He looks up at Saul and sees that same wearily contented smile, the smile that speaks to his soul.  He moves in to press their lips together, drinking in the warmth and comfort and feelings of coming home.    
  
He curls up with his head on Saul’s chest, arm around his waist.  Saul wraps an arm around his shoulders, and gently strokes behind Jesse’s ear, over his scalp, down his neck, until he feels sleep fall over Jesse.  Saul tries to stay awake just so he can stay in this moment just a bit longer, until he realises that this is only the beginning.  Then he lets sleep overcome him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, yes. That happened. My plan for a 2 chapter bit of fluff about playing golf turned in to this! Thanks to everyone for the kudos and the comments. I really have no idea what I'm doing, so it always helps if people let me know what they think.


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